Making a Move
by sellthelie
Summary: SylarElle: It was just a matter of when.
1. Making A Move

**Making a Move**

_She has dreams about him. About catching him, locking him up deep beneath the company, making him pay for all the wrongs he's done. She likes those dreams._

_Other nights she dreams he catches her. Sometimes he kills her immediately, taking great pleasure from the moment. Most times he drags it out, leaving her powerless, and unable to break free._

_She doesn't like those dreams._

*

Her father keeps a small apartment in the city. Two small rooms, and a tiny bathroom. Her room at the Company is bigger than the whole floor, but she feels more at home all alone here, then she ever did at the Company.

After she failed to stop Sylar, her father had _benched _her, she had been given a sabbatical. Elle always come here when she could. She'd go to the shops, and buy all the junk food she could. She would lock herself in, do nothing but eat horrible food, and watch reality television.

She had no interest in anything beyond these walls for however long her father thought she needed. The only time she would go out was for more food, or to go for a walk through the park. To surround herself with ordinary people, whose lives were no more complicated than wondering where they were going to have dinner that evening.

They didn't have to worry about the fact that they had let a killer get away.

*

There was a coffee shop on the corner that she was fond of. She would head down there most mornings after Tyra finished, and she'd buy a chocolate milkshake. The girl behind the counter was used to her after several days of the same routine, and Elle didn't even have to order it anymore. They made small talk as they waited, she was a nice enough girl, apparently she wanted to be an actress.

Elle kept it superficial, and incredibly light. There wasn't much of her life that this girl would understand, she was polite and friendly. The friendlier she was, the more cream on the top of her milkshake.

She never thought that she was being foolish, keeping such a routine.

*

It was at the beginning of the third week that she realised someone knew where she was, someone who shouldn't know where she was.

Katherine was all smiles as she walked in, leaning over the counter to beam at Elle.

"Hey missy," she grinned, clapping her hands on the countertop. "How are you doing today?"

"I'm fine," Elle said slowly, slipping onto one of the stools.

"Fabulous!" She moved around the counter, busying herself with Elle's drink. "I've been waiting for you to come in _all _morning. The most incredible thing happened after you were here."

"What was it?"

"You, have a secret admirer," she giggled, bouncing on her feet. "As you were leaving, I noticed this guy watching you from the corner. I went up to him after, _clearing his table_, and said 'she's cute'. He sort of nodded, asked if you came here often, and after I said most days, he was gone."

Elle didn't know how to respond, she had no experience when it came to dating. The two examples she could claim to have had were so little compared to what she heard the girls on television talk about.

"It's odd though, I never noticed him before, but then all of a sudden he was there, only to disappear not long after I noticed him."

Her heart slowed as Katherine continued to talk. Elle had noticed an empty table with a coffee cup yesterday, but she just assumed that she was slow in clearing it as usual. "What did he look like?"

"Really _nice_," she smiled. "Dark hair and brown eyes, you could do a lot worse girly."

"I doubt it," Elle said to herself.

*

The next day Elle didn't go to the coffee shop. After spending most of the night thinking that Sylar was going to burst into the apartment, she hadn't slept well at all. She had to be sure that it was him, in a city like New York there were quite literally a million guys who could fit that description. But only one that could appear when he wished, only one who before she had left the Company for her break spent some _quality time _with someone who could camouflage themselves. He could have been hiding there all along, in plain sight.

Not long after the sun had risen, Elle had entered the small park that looked over the coffee shop, sitting in some thick bushes. She had a perfect view of the entrance to the shop. If he came in, she would see him. If he left through the door, she would see him.

Part of her felt like a fool, hiding like this waiting for him. He could easily disguise himself - he had spent _quality time _with Candice after all.

She would wait for him, all day if she had to.

*

She never saw him. All day long ordinary people came and went for their coffee. He could of course disguise himself, but there was something incredibly _ordinary _about them.

*

Elle didn't sleep well that night, every time she closed her eyes she saw him. It was in the back of her mind as she entered the coffee shop, that he could have been there, but there was only a young couple having breakfast, and an elderly lady with a cup of tea.

She slouched onto one of the stools, shaking her head when Katherine started to make her usual. "Coffee, strong as you've got."

"Okay, rough night?"

"I couldn't sleep at all," Elle explained, taking the offered cup with a small smile.

"Thinking about your admirer?" She grinned, leaning against the counter.

"No I wasn't thinking about an admirer, not by any stretch of the imagination."

"Well that's too bad, he's sitting over there."

"What?" The word coming out as a squeal, Elle turned on her stool to look at who was here. The couple was still there, but in the place of the old lady, was a young man. The sly smirk in place, the same one that he had given her a month ago when all the police officers were between them.

"Yeah he's been here since I opened, waiting for you I imagine," she whispered in Elle's ear.

Elle stood, throwing some change on the counter. "Thanks for the coffee, I have to go."

Ignoring the befuddled expression on her face, Elle raced from the shop to the street. Without looking back to see if he was following her, she ran all the way to the apartment, triple checking all the useless locks once she was inside.

Stupid foolish girl.

*

She rang her father when her heart stopped beating erratically in her chest. Elle wasn't sure what she expected, but she certainly expected more than for him to fob off her claims, and tell her that she was surely imagining it. Sylar was a murderer, and he had his powers back; he was hardly going to be drinking tea at 8am in a small coffee shop in Brooklyn.

After several seconds of looking at the phone, hearing the dial tone, Elle put the phone back on the cradle. For a moment she considered that maybe she had misheard him, and he was telling her to come back to the Company right away. But he didn't, he told her to continue her _vacation_, and he'd see her next month.

He wasn't going to do anything. He was leaving her alone to face Sylar.

*

She went onto the roof after that, without a second thought she blasted the feathers off several pigeons before they realised it would be safer to get away. Elle couldn't walk down the street when she was like this.

All her life she had believed that no matter what may happen, her father loved her, and would do anything to protect her. He wasn't though - he wasn't going to do _jack _to save her from the only real threat. She knew it wasn't a coincidence, why the hell would Sylar be in New York, two blocks from her apartment?

There was no conceivable way it was a coincidence.

*

Elle didn't sleep again that night. Moving between the window and the door, her nerves were frayed as she waited for him to appear. He would eventually, and she was going to be ready.

*

He didn't come that night, or the next three days.

*

Elle ventured out to the street when it became a necessity. There was no food in the cupboard, and the walls were driving her crazy. The air outside was fresher than in the apartment, the faces of other people a relief from her growing worry. She couldn't help but study every one she passed, looking for him, looking for _something_.

The coffee shop was empty when she opened the door. Elle chose a table in the back corner. One with a view of the whole space, Katherine slid into a seat opposite her, immediately starting to chat. It became clear that Elle didn't have to do anything but smile or nod occasionally to placate her. There was only one thing that Elle wanted to know.

When she stopped to breath, Elle took her chance.

"So that guy, from the other day. Did he ever come back?"

She shook her head slowly, "Hmm, no. Now that I think about it, I haven't seen him since you ran out of here like a rocket. What was up with that?"

Elle decided to stay somewhat close to the truth. "He wasn't a stranger, or an admirer. I used to know him, and he's not a nice guy. If you ever see him again you have to stay away from him."

"Is he... Did he..."

"He tried to, but I got away, he's never hurt me, but he wanted to. Promise me..."

"Of course, should we ring the police or something?"

"They won't be any help."

*

Elle contemplated later, not for the first time, just going back to New Jersey. Her father may not have believed her, but Sylar was here, and he would kill her in an instant.

There were two things Elle had always wanted from her father, his approval, and his love. If she got the first, she would get the other. She just never managed to be good enough. Maybe this was a test, to see how she coped when it was all on her. She had to use her initiative.

It was all up to her. She couldn't leave.

*

Days passed without a sign of him. Elle wasn't foolish enough to think that he would leave her alone. It was all a part of his game, there was no part of this that wasn't thought out for him. He was going to come back.

It was just a matter of when.

*

Nearly two weeks after he first appeared he re-entered her life. After spending all night awake again, Elle had taken a shower, a long hot shower. Stepping out from behind the curtain she wrapped a towel around herself, taking the brush off the vanity she looked up at the mirror. The brush fell to the floor as she raced from the room, looking quickly around the small apartment.

Elle walked slowly into the steam filled room, unable to take her eyes off the fogged up mirror.

_See you soon, Elle. _

Beside it was a silly little smiley face. She wiped it away quickly. Son of a bitch was in the bathroom while she was two feet away, oblivious.

*

The rest of the day passed slowly. Elle paced the apartment after she dressed, the sparks ever present in her palm. He wasn't going to catch her by surprise. She was going to be ready, and he sure as hell wasn't going to get away this time. He wasn't going to get the better of her.

*

She was watching the street below; it was full of people coming home from work. How he did it she will never understand. She didn't hear the locks turn, or the door open and close.

She didn't hear him walk across the floor, but she felt the slight movement of her hair as he came up behind her.

"Sylar..."

He stopped her before she could do anything, spinning her, and pressing her against the window sill. "Did you miss me?"

He'd managed to constrict her throat as well as holding her still. She couldn't say she missed him even if she wanted to.

"Speechless? Have to say I prefer you this way, less lies."

The pressure lessened as he trailed off, "I had to, I didn't want to, Bennet..."

"Enough." His head tilted as he stopped her, "Do you think I _care _for your reasons? I really should thank you. It's because of you that I am who I am."

Elle shook her head as best she could, her eyes closing. She wouldn't panic. He would notice. She slowed her breathing, her heart rate dropping back to as close to normal as she could manage.

When she opened her eyes he was watching her closely, the smirk he often wore gone. "You aren't scared, why's that?"

She dropped her gaze down to her throat, moving her lips slowly.

The pressure disappeared again, "I'm not scared, I can help you. You don't have to hurt me."

"It's going to hurt Elle," he said quickly. "How can you help me? Haven't you done enough?"

"There are files, about you, every single thing about you. Who your parents are; what they could do. I can help you find them."

"Why would you do that?"

"I have a file too; my father hid it from me. I imagine it's in the same place, but I can't get to it. You could, I can get you there, but I can't get into the room. Don't you want to know? All the answers are right there."

He walked away from her, leaving her in place, she couldn't move. She could feel it pulsing inside of her, but she couldn't do anything.

Sylar turned back to her, "You do _anything_, and I will..."

"I just want to get into that room," Elle said quickly. _Then I'll deal with you. _

* * *


	2. From the Beginning

**From The Beginning**

_He imagines catching them, catching them all. Taking their abilities one by one, savouring each as he begins to understand how they work. He could take his time to learn them, to know the nuances of each._

They all struggle against him, but, eventually they all fall. 

*

He dreams of them at night. Feels the powers coursing through him, and he wakes up itching. The urges so strong, the need to have them all, to take them away from others who don't deserve them is all consuming. Most of them don't want them, choosing to ignore it. Treating it as something unsavoury, not understanding the beauty of it. He could show them the wonder of what they have, the gift and the curse.

It's easier just to take it from them.

*

Staying in New York for the meantime seemed right, almost natural. This was where his path began, it was only fitting that he started his new journey here.

The city was teeming with people who had abilities. He could pick and choose whose he takes.

He was going to take them all.

*

He wasn't nostalgic, he was more than happy to leave Gabriel Gray behind him. There was no part of this city that held any kind of hold over him. There was no family, and certainly no friends. After he left the alley behind Suresh's, he found a lucky soul with a remarkable gift.

Sylar watched him for several hours, watching him as he worked at a photo booth. He followed him home in the evening, waiting till it darkened outside before entering the apartment.

Moving quickly he liberated the man of his ability, he surveyed the apartment. The man was nothing, working for five dollars an hour, with no pictures on the walls. He wouldn't be missed.

This would do for a few days.

*

He couldn't get comfortable. There was no way they could overpower him, or take him in in any way. Sooner or later though, someone within the Company would realise what this man had been, and what he could do. They would send someone out to assess him, to see him in action.

He knew how the Company worked, and he wouldn't be here when they came.

*

He took advantage of his new friend's ability as he walked the streets, searching. Choosing which face they saw, choosing what they saw.

Some days he was an elderly man, who walked with a limp. Other days he was a middle-aged business man.

He was passing himself off as just another New Yorker, Yankees cap in place when he saw _her_. The sling was absent, but he'd recognise her anywhere.

His skin felt like it was on fire as he imagined the feel of her electricity powering through him.

He was going to enjoy this one.

*

She made it far too easy for him. She didn't look over her shoulder as she strode down the sidewalk, Bob's little girl wasn't thinking. Every day she did the same thing, at the same time.

She sat at the counter, conversing with the girl behind the counter. Elle walked right by him on her way in, brushing past him as she left. She didn't spare him a glance.

He followed her all the way home to her apartment.

Foolish girl.

*

Nursing a cup of green tea he watched her as she accepted her change from the girl, smiling happily as she drank her milkshake on her way out of the cafe. He ignored the stirrings of nostalgia; choosing to imagine how it would feel when he took the power from her.

"She's cute," a voice pulled him from his fantasy. It was the girl, wiping the table beside him.

Sylar couldn't help but smile a little at her in response, "Does she come here often?"

*

He didn't go there the next day; sitting on a bench across the road with a newspaper he watched the front of the store. His heart beat rose as she entered at her usual time, a jaunty spring in her step. Counting the seconds he waited.

She burst out a hundred and forty seven seconds later. The colour drained from her face as she looked frantically around, looking right over him. She then all but ran all the way back to her building.

He let her go, today.

*

There was a pull to her - he didn't normally want to play like this. He could have overpowered her all ready, showed Bishop what he was capable of, hurting her in ways that would curl even their toes. Ordinarily he would have been onto the next target by now, the one after that even, but he wanted her like this. He wanted her looking over her shoulder, terrified that he was going to be _right there_.

She wasn't the girl that had come into the watch shop all those months ago - he didn't want that girl anymore. He wanted the fire, the anger that came from her.

He wanted her to fight him, sparks flying everywhere.

It was going to be beautiful.

*

Days passed with no sign of her. He began to fear that she had taken the first bus back to New Jersey, but then she dragged herself into the shop early in the morning. Slumping onto a stool she ordered a cup of coffee.

Exchanging a few words with the waitress, she spun to face him. Staring at him for a short moment, her mouth agape, he gave her a smile which she didn't return. Throwing some coins on the bench, she dashed from the store.

Hiding his smile behind his cup, he shrugged his shoulders at the girl behind the counter. "Guess she's not interested."

*

Climbing the fire escape he sat by the window, hearing the frantic dialling and ensuing conversation. It wasn't a surprise when Bishop told her to stay put. The love of a father in full display, he wasn't sending in the troops, you're on your own _sweetheart_.

After she hung up the phone, the door slammed.

A flock of birds departed quickly soon after.

_Fire_.

*

He watched the apartment for several days, other than moving around inside she did nothing. She didn't run, she didn't venture outside. When his fingers began to itch, he went after a woman he'd found just before he saw her. The feeling died down for a few hours, but it resurfaced with a vengeance. He knew what he wanted now, sparks as blue as the sky dancing in his palm.

She wasn't ready yet. She wasn't in the fighting mood; she was huddling in, waiting for the ambush. She was expecting him. He could feel her fear as she walked mere feet from him. It wasn't enough.

*

Manipulating the locks easily he let himself into the apartment. The sound of the running shower filling the space as he walked through the rooms, the door to the bathroom wide open. Steam filled the room as she stood under the spray. Her head resting on the wall as the water rained down on her.

It would be so easy. Yank the curtain away, throw her against the wall, and take what he wanted. She wouldn't see it coming. She was relaxed, and completely oblivious.

He didn't want it this way.

Soon, he'd take it just the way he wanted to. He told her so on the bathroom mirror.

*

Waiting till night fell he re-entered her apartment, taking care to be silent as he closed the door behind him. Her eyes were on the street below, she didn't move as he came up behind her.

Her hair moved as he stood behind her, his name passing her lips on a breath. Moving her quickly against the wall, she gaped down at him.

"Did you miss me?"

Her lips moved, but no sound bar a gasping breath escaped her.

"Speechless? Have to say I prefer you this way," he said quietly. "Less lies."

Closing her eyes briefly, he lessened the grip as she opened them. "I had to, I didn't want to, Bennet..."

"Enough." He snapped, stopping her. The eyes closed again, "Do you think I care for your reasons? I really should thank you. It's because of you that I am who I am."

The noises in this head faded away, the beating of her heart slowing, her breath coming easier. She reopened her eyes, and they were clear.

"You aren't scared, why's that?"

"I'm not scared, I can help you. You don't have to hurt me," Elle said quickly, her voice steady.

"It's going to hurt Elle." His mouth watered as the images assaulted him again. "How can you help me? Haven't you done enough?"

"There are files, about you, every single thing about you. Who your parents are; what they could do. I can help you find them." She hit a nerve, and she knew it. A ghost of a smirk crossed her lips as she spoke.

"Why would you do that?"

"I have a file too; my father hid it from me. I imagine it's in the same place, but I can't get to it. You could, I can get you there, but I can't get into the room. Don't you want to know? All the answers are right there."

Of course he wanted to know. He wasn't surprised that Bishop had a file on his daughter. She was nothing more than part of the business. Elle had proven that she couldn't be trusted though, this was her bargaining chip. To save her live she was making a deal, there would be no pay off for him other than a file. For her - hand delivering Daddy's main target to his front door.

He could keep her on a leash though, control her, and kill her at the drop of a hat.

He wanted that file. "You do anything, and I will..."

"I just want to get into that room," Elle said quickly.

*

After procuring a vehicle, they leave before the sun rises the next morning. She doesn't talk as they drive over the bridge; no words pass her lips as the countryside passes by her window.

Her heart rate stays the same; she's calm, steady as a rock. It's more disconcerting than a scared Elle.

*

The parking lot is empty as they arrive, which is strange for the middle of the day. He looks at her quickly, but she seems just as surprised as he is.

"Where are they?"

She gives him a look, shaking her head. "They don't exactly fill me in on everything, especially at the moment." The last words are bitter as they leave her lips, and her mouth twists. "Let's go."

*

It's on the fourth floor, at the end of a hallway. She leads him quickly down the hallway, looking around constantly. He expected to have to force his way, this ease of access isn't the way it should go.

Elle stops in front of a doorway, a simple lock on it.

"I thought you couldn't get in?"

"It's not as easy as it looks," she kicked it with her foot, hiding her wince. The noise reverberated through the air. "Six inches of solid metal, believe me when I say I have tried to get in. Repeatedly."

Casting a glance around the corridor, he moves her out of the way. Holding her in place with one hand, he focuses his attention on the lock. Pushing pieces, and moving them out of the way of others. It's complicated - more so than any other lock he's come across. A giant jigsaw puzzle – creating new twists as you solve one.

He becomes so focused on the lock that he doesn't pay any attention to anything around him, other than holding Elle in place.

It isn't until Bishop speaks that he realises they are no longer alone.

"Well done, Elle."

*

The last bit of the lock moves as he spins around pulling her against his front to face her father.

"I always knew you had it in you," he says, stepping around the men surrounding him. Their guns trained on Sylar.

"You left me alone," Elle whispers, her heart starting to sped up for the first time in hours. "Why?"

"I knew he'd come for you, you had to have known he would. I thought you knew," Bob said calmly, stopping a few feet from them.

"You could have told me..."

"That doesn't matter anymore; you know what you have to do."

Sylar moved his hand up to her throat, muttering under his breath, "Don't."

She looked up at him before snapping her eyes back to her father. "I'll kill her," Sylar tightened his hand, feeling her gasp against his palm. "Put those guns down, or I will snap her neck right now."

Bob kept his eyes on Elle, "No, you won't."

Her pulse raced, she was breathing deeply. "Daddy, please."

"If you were going to kill her, you would have done it once you got to the door."

He could see the sparks dancing under her skin, lighting her up, she tightened her hands into fists.

Bob stepped to the side, leaving the guns with a clear shot at them. "I don't think you could kill her."

"What are you doing?" Elle gasped, her body tensing as the guns moved a step closer. "Daddy?"

Sylar leaned over her, keeping a grip on her. "A sacrificial lamb, you're the bait Elle." He whispered in her ear, her eyes closing as a tear escaped them. "You know it, you've always known it."

"No," she shook her head as best she could.

"I can take it Elle, Claire is incredibly generous, can you handle the bullets? Once they pierce your heart there's nothing you can do, and they are going to shoot to kill."

"He's not..."

Bob watched them closely, "You can't look at this any other way Elle. You've become the means to an end, mine. You can't trust him."

"I can't trust you," she whispered back fiercely.

"He knows - about Claire, and our exchange. He's not trying to kill me, just slow me down. You're in the way Elle," the guns didn't waver in front of them. "Stop them, do it now."

"No... My father..."

"Is prepared to let you die, I can take whatever you've got. We can get out of here, and you'll never have to look at him again. Feel his disappointment when you don't meet his too high expectations, aren't you tired? Always trying, but never quite succeeding to make him happy?"

"I can't trust you, he's my father."

Moving them around, he slipped his hand away from her throat, holding it millimetres from her skin. "I'm only bluffing Elle, you can help me, I want you around. Those men holding the guns? Kill first, ask questions later."

Elle looked up at him quickly, returning her eyes to her father. Bishop did nothing. His arms folded across his chest he watched them, "What are you waiting for Elle?"

"I won't kill him."

Bob raised an eyebrow, and Sylar realised that she wasn't referring to her captor. "You don't have to," he whispered. _Not today_, he thought to himself as he moved his hand down to rest on her hips, holding her body tight against his. "What are you waiting for Elle?"

Her nod was barely noticeable, but there was no missing the electricity that flew from her hands, stunning her father, and his companions.

It really was a thing of beauty.

* * *


	3. Similar Features

NOTE: I kept forgetting to include this here. The first part was set post Season Two, right after the Untold Stories happened. Sort of an AU spin I had in my head, this is an expansion of that. So it's post Season Two, and Three never happened. But Sylar did go visit Claire, just because it's handy. I hope that clears up any confusion!

* * *

**Similar Features**

Elle gripped the manila folder tightly in her hand. The edges of the paper cutting into her palm, she couldn't feel the cuts forming, or the blood staining the paper. With her eyes closed as tight as she can, all she could see was his face, and his words.

She wanted to believe in him, she _had _always believed in him without question, never doubting him. It had been easy, it was only natural to believe in the only family you've ever had. She couldn't forget the look in his eyes. She could see the cool indifference towards the men holding guns in his only daughters face.

Had he been prepared to let her die, just so he could capture Sylar? Elle knew that was what he wanted. She could remember his fury when she had let him get away from her in New York. A father was supposed to love their child, unconditionally. Be willing to do whatever it took to keep them safe at all times.

As far as she was concerned her father was gone, and it up to her now to look after herself.

**

The wind blew in the open window, if she opened her eyes she'd see the houses thinning as they left the city. Elle didn't question him when he led them out of the building, nor when he started driving the car away from the Company.

What was she supposed to do? She had no one, no one at all.

Maybe it was an effect of not sleeping for nearly two weeks, but the steady movement of the car as he drove, coupled with the cool breeze on her face, Elle was soon asleep.

**  
_  
She dreamed she was a young girl again, with her hair done up in braids, and a skip in her step. She walked the halls of the Company, searching for her father, eager to show him what she had done. He was going to be **so **proud. He was always telling her that she had to show him that she could handle her special gift, or he'd have to send her away, he just didn't have the time to devote to her if she wasn't going to work hard. She **could **work hard, she was a good girl, and Daddy was going to be pleased with what she could do._

__

It may be only a rat, but she had shown that she had the patience, **and **the skill it took to earn his respect.

He was in the hallway, walking quickly away from her with Glasses right beside him, Elle could hear an alarm ringing in the distance.

"I told you he was dangerous, he should have been down in Level Five years ago, when he was first brought in..."

"We thought we could control him, he's relatively defenceless..."

"He almost killed her!"

"Killed who?" Elle asked innocently, smiling sweetly up at both of them. "Was it Cynthia? I hope it was her, she's really mean."

"Elle, go back to your room - now."

"I wanted to show you..."

"I don't have the time," he walked past her, barely looking at her as he went. "Throw that rat in the bin, it's unhygienic."

"But I killed it," she said to herself as he turned a corner, running her finger over its burnt tail.

The singed fur was rough against her skin. She'd spent hours sitting absolutely still in her room, waiting for it to come out, to be tempted by the cracker with peanut butter she'd left out for it. It wasn't easy, she'd been more bored than she'd ever been, but she'd waited.

Waiting on the edge of her bed, ready to aim her perfected shot right at it. She'd gotten use to**Lucky **as she'd taken to calling it. People came and went within these walls, but there had been a constant, she could hear them scurrying around in the dead of the night. Maybe it was just one, but she had known that with all that changed, for good and bad; when she heard them she knew that everything was still it's own kind of normal.

He was her friend, and she'd sacrificed him to prove to her father that she could do everything that he wanted her to do.

_He didn't even notice._

**

When Elle awoke the sun was disappearing below the horizon, _he _was leaning against the front bumper, his file closed beside him. Shrugging off the jacket that wasn't on her shoulders earlier, Elle stepped out the car. He didn't move as she slammed the door shut, not even a slight flinching of his shoulders. Not for the first time did she wonder if she'd made a mistake. How could she stay one step ahead of someone if she had no idea what they were thinking? She had never met anyone who was able to hide everything away so well, she would never know what he was going to do.

It had been a foolish decision, but there was still blood pumping through her veins, so maybe it had been the right decision.

"Where are we?"

He didn't move from his position, but glanced over his shoulder at her momentarily. "We're about two hundred miles south of the city."

Elle moved around the car to stand in front of him, "Why? Why are we here?"

"It's a motel, I need to sleep."

"You want to sleep?" She looked at him closely, and for a moment she almost believed that he could be a normal man. He looked up at her, his expression belying all that he hid underneath.

"I've got us a room, you are probably hungry?" He stepped off the car, grabbing his file off the bonnet, and walking away from her. The car doors locked as he used the remote.

Obviously Elle was meant to follow.

**

He ordered room service while she used the bathroom, or stood by the door and listened to him move around the room. Elle didn't know what they were supposed to do, what she was supposed to do. It was a small room, filled with only one bed. _He _needed to sleep, so where did that leave her? He said that he wanted her with him; she could hear him whispering it in her ear.

What did he want her for?

**

Sylar knocked on the door to the bathroom when their dinner arrived. He'd ordered them cheeseburgers. Was she supposed to thank him? She was here by choice, but as she sat down in one of the chairs in the room, she had no idea what this arrangement was. They were hardly what one would call friends, it was a tentative arrangement, and she didn't know what the terms were.

Elle didn't have more than a bite of the burger, when she realised she had to now, and soon. Wiping her hands on the napkin, she cleared her throat.

He looked at her over his, doing nothing more than raising an eyebrow.

"Why am I here?"

"It's because you wanted to be."

"No," Elle shook her head. "Before I... went against my father, you told me, you wanted me around. It was my choice to follow you, but I could have just as easily stayed behind. Why do you _want _me around? I believe they were your words?"

He studied the burger in his hands, before looking at her with eyes that she immediately made her feel uneasy once they were upon her. "We have things in common, we can help each other."

"You don't need anyone's help, and we have _nothing _in common."

"Have you read your file?" Sylar asked, taking a large bite. Elle watched him chew slowly, swallowing and his eyes remaining locked on hers. "I think you may see things differently once you have."

**

After Elle places rolled up towels along the middle of the bed, feeling foolish the whole time, he moved under the sheets, and shut out the lights. They hadn't exchanged any words since they'd eaten. Her dinner was sitting heavily in the pit of her stomach, rolling every time he looked at her.

She couldn't bring herself to move onto the bed beside him, even with the hastily assembled buffer in place. She hadn't opened her file yet, all the hints that Bennett had given her over time had given her an idea of what she could expect. Seeing it written in black and white, proof of all that she had endured, been _forced _to endure, she didn't think she was ready for that. She had to prove to him though that she wasn't anything like him.

Yes, she had killed, but there had always been a purpose to it. It had never been about taking a power from someone; she had been following orders, like a good company girl was supposed to do.

It hardly made them similar.

**

Elle wasn't expecting pictures.

Of blistered skin, weeping wounds, her younger tear-streaked face.

Sitting in the bathtub she turned the pages slowly, feeling the electricity flowing through her as she looked at the photos of what she'd been through, at her father's hand.

She was so young - she couldn't have been old enough to tie her own shoelaces. With tubes connected to all kinds of machines, she looked so small.

After the photos there were medical reports, several pages filled with intricate details of all that had had been done to her. Elle couldn't believe what she was reading; hours hooked up to machines, thousands of volts of electricity flowing through her. Pushing her to the brink leaving her drained, and lifeless. Her father couldn't have allowed this; no father would allow his only child to endure such treatment. Elle told herself that as she read the reports, it wasn't until she saw his signature on the last page that she realised that he had known, and he'd ordered it.

_The hardest thing a parent ever does is to have to see their child in pain. Most parents._

**

She crawled into the bed, as close to the edge as she could manage. It wasn't as bad as it got some times, but she could see the thin veins of blue racing under her skin. Gritting her teeth, Elle tried her best to ignore it, breathing steadily to calm herself. She had learnt over the years how to control these moments, when her emotions got the best of her, and the electricity ran out of control. It was easier with the sedatives that the nurse at the Company had on hand, but it should pass.

Clenching her fists tightly Elle prepared to ride it out, thinking of happy things. Of sunshine, puppies, ice cold Slush-o's; anything but her father.

"What's going on Elle?"

Shaking her head quickly, "It's nothing." A high powered surge went through her as she spoke, her voice coming out higher than she intended.

The bed shifted as he moved closer, his arm reaching over the towels he clasped his hand around her.

"What... What are you doing?" Elle said, his grip was too tight for her to pull her hand away.

"Let it out Elle, you're mad, at your father, at everything. This won't stop till you let it out. Give it to me," he urged. "_Let me help you_."


End file.
